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Fishing the stillwater

 

He left the factory, and his family behind,
and the mortgage – – – and all of his,
other responsibilities.

Not forever – – – no never forever,
just for the four days he needed,
to re-energize and get centered,
once more – – – again this year.

So he took his canoe and books,
of George Washington Sears,
and Nussmuk’s first love,
the Sairy Gamp.

And like a child with a cape,
playing Superman games,
he allowed his mind,
to play games,
with him.

It was easy due to the forest,
enshrouding him beneath,
overhanging hemlocks,
or an open blue sky,
the river became,
his cape.

And when he hit the still-waters,
he would flex his rod and reel,
to see if he could still fool,
a brookie or two.

Usually it was they who fooled him,
and he was quite pleased at this,
because it was a game that he,
did not wish to always win.

His little white finned adversaries,
would not be very worthy,
to be called adversaries,
if they were that easy,
to trick or fool.

Then – – – when the four days ended,
he did not wish to leave this place,
where the trees, river and sky,
held him in their arms,
so that he could face,
another 361 days,
of responsibility.

When he packed up the car,
and drove the five hours,
towards the next 361,
he was exuberant,
his chest was full,
of something,
without,
a name.

But he knew it was real,
no capes were required,
for the rest of the year.

© Copy written for what I will never know.

Credit to DARVILLS

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